Vodka for Breakfast, Chocolate for Lunch

When we did the groceries we were only after the bare essentials – grog, grog, grog and maybe some chips and chocolate to have with the grog if we began to feel a bit spewy. And so it set the tone to our 2009 Splendour adventure.

At 5am on Friday morning the four of us squeezed into the overflowing car and headed off. Because Ingrid and I are new drivers we were excluded from the tedious duties, many thanks to the responsible drivers for getting us there in one piece. So it was ten hours of snuggling and sleeping ahead of us. The most important ingredient to a successful road trip is good music. My lovely friend Penny spent weeks compiling The Ultimate Road Trip Mega Mix, incorporating everybody’s’ music tastes. We had a no skipping the song rule, which lasted for about two seconds.

The most exciting pit stop on the way up was the Big Banana, which I have never seen. That lustrous, yellow fruit was everything I could of hoped for and more. We BYO’ed our own bananas and did the mandatory dorky poses in front of the gigantic specimen. Which seemed oh so hilarious at the time until you run into someone you know from Sydney.

Our first night was spent in a cosy tent as the cabins were booked up. Luckily we had practiced putting it up earlier in the week to prevent any embarrassing, amateur mistakes. Of course the one night we camp it rains. Mother nature has a wicked sense of humour, the cheeky bitch. The rain did not deter us and we out smarted her by purchasing some waterproof tarps at “Wayne’s World Discount Store” (I actually don’t think this was the name of the shop but If I had a shop I would call it this, it has a nice ring to it don’t you think?)

Our campsite was right by the beach and tucked away in the rainforest at Broken Head. Pesky bush turkeys gobbled about every crevice, scavenging for food. Not a good equation when you combine drunken, rowdy Splendour punters and sadly I witnessed many Turkeys being attacked by flying objects. We started drinking at an un Godly hour in the morning but there is something so fun about drinking before 10am. Probably because you know it’s seedy but going to a festival is the one excuse that warrants it.

I don’t usually get too excited over Aussie hip-hop but it’s amazing the power of a good performance and how it can change your opinion. Triple J Unearthed winners Low Budged kicked off day 1 and blew me away. I didn’t know any of their songs but found my self dancing like a crazy lady, arms flailing, legs kicking Elaine Bennis style, wanting more! The highlight of their gig was when they held up gigantic, saggy, old people undies with the words in shitty black texta “Low Budget” drawn on them and threw it into the crowd, mayhem ensued and some lucky bugger managed to score themselves a free pair of granny panties.

Courtesy of a sneaky vodka hip flask tucked down the side of my pantaloons I cannot really distinguish between day 1 or day 2. But the definite euphoric atmosphere of a festival was present both days. I loved wandering around and bumping into fun friends and going on adventures, especially since you have a 1 in 17000 chance of finding them. I loved the fact it was winter but felt like summer. I loved the lush green grass and the mud holes to frolic in. I loved the hippy parents dragging their unassuming babies along and still having a good time. A strange dichotomy I’ve always noticed about festivals is the extreme contrast of love and hate that you can experience. You can make best friends with the girl behind you in the loo line or people can be complete tossers (i.e. sit up on the fence during MGMT and block everyone’s view) but that ‘team spirit’ mentality solved the problem anyway as we all rallied together and screamed till she finally got down. We even formed a club with some new friends called “I hate Southern Cross tattoos” that plans to meet weekly so we can vent our disgust.

MGMT, Bloc Party and Friendly Fires had to be my favourites – musically speaking and eye candy wise. Gosh balls the lead singer of MGMT is gorgeous. He first grabbed my attention in one of his film clips while he was wearing a hot pink loin cloth and it’s been love ever since. Bloc Party was mayhem but I adore their music. It’s quite scary being a short lass in the heaving crowd, luckily I had a tall friend to protect me but I think the closing acts are best enjoyed out of the hectic main tent and from a distance on grassy hill patch where you even have room to dance! Inside the main tent it’s just a tangle of sweaty bodies and stray limbs and I always worry I’ll get trampled to death. The Friendly Fires have so many great songs to dance to and I reckon they are going to be massive this year. The best time of the day is dusk, just before it gets dark and becomes “change over time” i.e. when you begin to feel like the scum of the earth. For some reason as soon as the sun goes down the crazies come out to play and everything just feels a bit grotty.

So what have I learnt from this weekend of squalor and fun? I would happily marry any lead singer from any band, there is just something so God damn sexy about lead singers. I am a ridiculous sucker for boys in skinny leg jeans and cardigans. The skinner the jean the better in fact. Splendour was full of uber Indy boys and I almost had to use a bib for my drooling. If you need to go to the loo you should refer to this act as “I really need to Bob Evans”, if waiting for a shuttle bus to get home a fun way to pass the time is with a very moral and dignified game called “Pineapples and Nellys” whereby you rate the pedestrians as hot or not using the appropriate code words pineapple (positive) and nelly (negative), to ensure a smooth road trip put all necessities in an accessible bag at the passengers foot, you may only refer to this as the accessible bag for the entire journey and should weave the phrase into as many sentences as possible for the rest of the holiday, a fun social experiment when a random asks you for a cigarette is to reply “I’ll only give you the cigarette if you hang out with me for the rest of the day,” they usually run before you can even touch the packet, Woolworth’s “light” chips are not chips at all, they are air wafers and taste like poop and should never be purchased ever again.

The best way to recover from two days of debauchery is a swim at the beach. I’ve always believed taking a dip has magical healing powers. Thanks to all those involved for making my Splendour so much fun I can’t wait to do it all again next year. I suffered a severe case of Post Splendour Withdrawals upon return and even had to throw my shoes in the bin, which is always a sign of a good time!

UPDATE: Turns out ice cream is the best way to combat jealous thoughts of topless women and Island hopping oh, and being asked to dance by the lead singer of Friendly Fires! *

* Not 100% sure if this is the actual lead singer but he still is an absolute hottie so I am claiming it.

- BELLA